


Find You Anywhere

by deanbennylife (kams_log)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Army, Canon-Typical Violence, Captivity, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Lawyer Sam, M/M, References to PTSD, Soldier Benny, Soldier Dean, Soldier Sam, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-10 22:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4410143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kams_log/pseuds/deanbennylife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were a few more minutes till shift change. But they spent those minutes in silence, staring out to the view.</p>
<p>It was gorgeous, for certain. That never escaped Dean’s notice. The sun would be setting in a few hours, but already the sky was beginning to twist and form into beautiful colors against the clouds, and the beautiful colors of the people only made the culture and city that much more brilliant and diverse.</p>
<p>It was incredible. But with Benny sitting beside him, leaning on his elbows and gazing down at the buildings and people just below them, Dean found his gaze focused only on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Find You Anywhere

**Author's Note:**

> for the anon prompt: “maybe a deanbenny fic where they're at an army base with Sam and a few others and get attacked, Dean and be my get captured but manage to escape or something?”
> 
> hope you guys like it! apologies for any mistakes.

Dean sighed and stared into his scope, ignoring the sweat that was beginning to drip down his neck and back, clustering beneath his arms and knees. He’d been squatting in this same position for hours, just watching, waiting. It was always the same. What did he really expect being stationed at the main base of operations. Attacks here were rare and far in between, often because of how many soldiers were stationed there and it would easily be a suicide mission.

Dean could scoff at that. There were always suicide missions outside their base. Now that was unfortunately common. What confused Dean was how their enemies would attack innocent civilians rather than go straight for the people they hated, the American soldiers. Why hurt people who couldn’t fight back when there were several dozens right here?

Easy. Because they had guns and the enemy would rather sacrifice one at a time rather than dozens of their own and possibly fail.

Dean sighed and wiped the sweat from his forehead, gaze sharpening as he looked back into the scope. 

“Easy there, chief,” Benny’s old Cajun accent soothed beside him. “You’re gonna’ bust a vein starin’ like that.”

“Just tired, man,” Dean grunted back, but felt his shoulders relaxing anyway.

Benny always had a way of doing that. Steadying him. Relaxing him. His very presence was cooling under the hot summer heat, and yet he somehow still found ways to make Dean’s cheeks brighten whenever his fingers drifted up his back or steadied his hands gripped around his rifle. 

Benny was a balm. Dean naturally leaned into it.

“Think it’s about time for a shift change?” Benny asked, nudging their shoulders together until Dean grinned.

“I’ve got a few more minutes,” Dean replied. “Then, sure.”

“Gotcha,” Benny nodded and looked over the roof banister in front of them, admiring the view of the people milling about below. 

The view was gorgeous, for certain. That never escaped Dean’s notice. The sun would be setting in a few hours, but already the sky was beginning to twist and form into beautiful colors against the clouds, and the beautiful colors of the people only made the culture and city that much more brilliant and diverse.

It was incredible. But with Benny sitting beside him, leaning on his elbows and gazing down at the buildings and people just below them, Dean found his gaze focused only on him.

...

The sun was set and Benny was on the next watch. Dean, meanwhile, sat downstairs with his brother in their bunks with the other soldiers, playing cards and writing to family.

“How far’s Jess now?” Dean asked, tossing his hackie sack in the air before catching it again in his other fist. He did it twice more before Sam finally looked up again, his eyes gleaming and far away.

“In her seventh month,” Sam replied evenly. “But I should be shipping home before then.”

“Yeah, I know kiddo,’” Dean grinned. “Still gonna’ go back to getting that law degree? Be an old paper pusher?”

“It’s good work Dean,” Sam argued, rolling his eyes. But his lips twitched back into a smile as he continued, “The only difference between what we do here and what I do there, is not having to be the police enforcement. Bad guys still go away, and good guys can go back to their normal and happy lives, whatever they may be.”

“I can’t tell if you romanticize justice or actually believe that.”

“Both, maybe,” Sam said. “But what about you? You just going to keep coming back every time they send you home?”

Dean’s hand stilled around the hackie sack and he bit his cheek in thought. 

He’d discussed that same idea with Benny only a few weeks earlier. While they were only planning to keep their relationship a secret till they got home, they had planned about what they’d like to do when they reached the main land. 

Benny and Dean were similar enough to see themselves fighting the good fight for the rest of their lives. But they both knew that wouldn’t work if they ever wanted to do other things. Things like settling down, maybe having a family of their own. Benny had mentioned wanting kids during the past year of their relationship, and Dean could definitely envision the idea.

He liked imagining having a little boy or girl running into his arms after a long day at work. He liked imagining going home to Benny every night. He wanted the idea of spending lazy Saturdays and Sundays curled up on the couch watching old reruns and dramas, just the two of them reading or talking till it got dark.

The idea alone was unbearably domestic. But Dean shivered with want. 

“I don’t know,” Dean lied, tossing the hackie sack. “I’ll just see wherever life takes me, I guess.”

...

Where life took him was to an underground cellar with his arms and legs chained to a wall.

It was one month later. One. Damn. Month. Everything had been going fine. They’d started discussion with their CO’s about going home soon, about how they’d face the transition and deal with getting back to ‘ordinary lives.’ 

Sammy was practically vibrating with excitement. He couldn’t wait to go home, see Jess, kiss her growing tummy and finally welcome that new life into their family. It was all he could talk about, and Dean couldn’t be prouder of his little brother.

Sam was going to be a father. Sam was starting his own family. Dean had wondered if he was that far behind.

And then the main base was attacked after all. It was a mess, chaos. Bombs went off and rocked the building, and before anybody had any time to react, at least a dozen were shot or killed on both sides, and Dean saw four men going straight for his brother. He managed to cut down two of them before shoving Sam down into the basement and locking the door. 

A hit to the head was the last thing he remembered, and when he woke up, there was no light and no base. There was clay earth and rusty chains, and Dean was very much alone.

He wasn’t sure how long he was down there before anyone came to check on him. It could have been hours. Maybe even a day, by Dean’s guess. But when they came in, they were wearing hoods and holding long rods.

Dean didn’t speak their language. But by his guess, they probably wanted to know about their military strategies or if they were all going to be taken out by the end of the week. Dean would’ve said yes. But in his heart, he doubted it.

Most likely, they’d search for him and see what they could do. But in the end, if they couldn’t find him, Dean strongly expected he’d be left behind, no matter what the motto said. Never say Dean was an optimist. He wasn’t. The army would either give up on him, or he’d die at the hands of terrorists. There was nothing else Dean expected.

They came to check on him and interrogate him almost hourly. Dean never answered. He kept his mouth firmly sealed shut, and when they struck him for the first time, he spit blood in their face. They didn’t like that.

By the end of the first day, he was sore, bleeding, and ready to sleep for the rest of the year. But they came in the night too, not to interrogate him, but to keep him awake and miserable so he might be more lenient to answer their questions. Dean could only glare from where he sat in the dirt. 

The second day repeated like the first. This time they had an english translator. Dean remained stubbornly silent and held himself firm and resentful. They hit him again, but he didn’t care. He knew Sammy had to be safe, because there was no way they would have had time to break down the door with all the soldiers streaming out guns blazing. 

His greatest concern was keeping Sammy out of fire of any more threats. He had Jess to go home too. He had a baby to look after. 

And there was Benny. Benny, who Dean would never give up either. Benny, Dean’s closest friend. Benny, Dean’s lover and future.

Dean wasn’t giving up anything. Not for the entire damn world. Every terrorist could go straight to hell for all he cared. They could drag him down too. Dean was fine with that.

They broke his leg on day three. His bit his arm so hard it bled, but he didn’t scream. Not for them. He didn’t say a word when the interrogator stepped on his broken knee.

Dean could see it in their eyes. They were beginning to realize Dean wasn’t going to break. They thought Dean either knew nothing, or he really wasn’t going to speak. 

Either way, he was useless to them, and they were beginning to understand it. 

Dean guessed he had a few more days before they put a gun to his head and ended it. 

In the end, they never had a chance to.

Day four Dean stirred against the floor to the sound of gunfire above his head. He struggled to sit up, maybe crawl over to the door and try and overhear what was going on outside, but his leg was still trickling blood whenever he tried to move it, and the pain almost wasn’t worth the effort.

But then he heard shouting, and it wasn’t foreign. It was English. Dean’s head perked up and he forced himself up onto his good leg, wrapping his hands around the rusty chains and pulling hard.

The wall didn’t budge, but the chains creaked against the strain. Dean gave a few more valiant tugs, and fell onto his back when they snapped him half. The iron cuff around his wrist smacked into his forehead, leaving him dizzy. But it numbed the searing pain in his leg, and Dean forced himself to roll over and get the wrapped chains around his ankles. 

They were chipped and dirty. Dean’s fingers were wet and likely bleeding, but he almost had the first one off when the door slammed open.  
Dean screamed and covered his eyes, shocked by the blinding light that spilled into the underground cellar. 

“We got Winchester!” Someone shouted from above, but Dean covered his ears and shook against it. Damn it was bright. His eyes felt like they were burning. 

A hand touched his shoulder and he jerked away from it, but froze when he looked up into stunning blue eyes.

“Dean?” Benny’s low worried voice started, but Dean didn’t let him finish. He threw his arms around Benny’s shoulders and pulled him close, not caring how Benny’s protective gear dug into his broken skin.

“You’re okay?” Dean grunted, hating the way his voice grated from lack of use. 

Benny’s worried laugh was music to Dean’s ears.

“I’m okay? Should be askin’ you that, Dean.” He set Dean back down against the earth, taking Dean’s fingers in his hands and studying them closely. “Let’s get you outta’ these cuffs and get ya’ home. Okay, cher?”

Dean wanted to roll his eyes, but he let Benny work as another soldier stepped in, this one also familiar.

“Dean--!” Sam exclaimed, but Benny shook his head and pointed at the chains around Dean’s ankles.

“Get those! He’s bleedin’ and needs medical attention. Work fast!”

Sam didn’t speak again. Dean mourned it. But he relaxed when Benny picked him up in his arms and carried him out of the room. He was unconscious before he saw the sky.

...

He woke up on a cot a day and a half later. He felt warm and secure, and sunlight streamed in through a window not far from where he lay. Without moving, he could already tell there was a large cast wrapped around his leg, and there were multiple bandages and patches against his skin in various areas. They itched. 

Dean reached out to scratch one on his cheek, but stilled when a hand wrapped around his wrist.

“Easy there, darlin,’” Benny spoke softly, and Dean’s eyes turned to see Benny sitting beside him, eyes brighter than they were in the cellar, but no less worried. “Better not disturb those.”

Dean glanced down at his arm, wincing when he saw a particularly large bandage over where he’d bitten himself. 

“Sam?” Dean asked, voice scratchy and thick. Benny reached over to the stand beside them and picked up a water bottle, handing it to Dean carefully.

“Sam’s fine,” Benny promised, watching as Dean greedily gulped down the liquid. “Only left your side to finish out the report. Already filled in my side of things.”

“Anybody else?” Dean coughed before taking another drink, slower this time. 

“There were three captured, like you. Got ‘em out, though. All three alive and kicking.”

“Good,” Dean grinned. He handed back the water bottle and watched Benny set it away, then turning to take Dean’s hand in his own.

Dean was surprised to see his eyes glimmering with unshed tears. 

“Dean,” Benny started, hesitant, unsure, “We almost lost ya.’ Lost a lot of blood there, chief. If we’d waited another day to get there, I don’t think we’d have...”

Dean frowned and squeezed Benny’s hand tight, staring as Benny looked at him fearfully.

“You didn’t lose me, Benny,” Dean said firmly. “I’m right here.”

“I know that,” Benny huffed. “But it doesn’ change I almost lost ya’ for real. And right before we go home--”

He ran a hand over his face and sighed tiredly, breath shuddering out tiredly. 

Dean smiled weakly and rubbed his thumb over Benny’s hand. 

“You still wanna’ go home with me?” He asked softly. 

Benny chuckled and wiped his eyes.

“Yeah, Dean. I do. Always will.” 

Dean grinned and tugged Benny’s hand over, pulling Benny close until he had Benny’s face in his hands, drawing him down into a reassuring kiss. 

“Damn I missed you,” Dean muttered against his lips, grinning when Benny pushed him back against the sheets and pillow.

“I love you,” Benny replied.

His kissed Dean again, and Dean let him. Benny continued to hold him for the rest of the hour, trading kisses and talking through how he and the other soldiers were found. That’s how Sam found them, Dean cocooned against Benny’s chest, both of them grinning and laughing softly in the face of everything that’d happened. 

After the shock wore off that Dean and Benny had been together all this time, Dean could tell by the look on his brothers face, that they’d probably be okay.

...

Dean was there when Jess had her daughter. She got to hold the little girl first, then Sam, who cried more than the baby. But Dean got to hold the kid next. She had Sam’s curly little brown hair, and her eyes were brilliant and bright. Overall, and not counting the creepy pink wrinkles, the girl was incredibly beautiful. Sam was lucky.

Benny’s hand touched his shoulder, and Dean laughed when his beard tickled his neck when he looked over to get a peak at the baby girl.

“Well, ain’t she a darlin?” Benny whispered. His fingers reached out and brushed a few strands from the girl’s face, Deanna, named after him, and pressed a kiss to Dean’s cheek.

“Think maybe we should have one?”

Dean blushed and looked at the gold on his finger, something Benny put there a few months after they got home. He bit the inside of his cheek and grinned.

“I’d like that,” Dean replied softly. 

In the meantime, they had to celebrate. It wasn’t everyday Dean had a little munchkin niece named after him. 

He grinned and looked up at Sammy, admiring the way he held Jess’s hand and whispered to her.

Sam had gotten back to his normal life without any trouble. While Dean wished the same could be said for him, he always knew it wouldn’t be easy to get over what happened to him.

But he had Benny, and Sam was always there for him too. He looked down at the little girl in his arms once more and tickled her under her chin, admiring the way her lips parted and yawned. 

Yeah, he decided. They could totally do this. As long as he had Benny, and Sam, he could do anything. Even start a family of his own.

**Author's Note:**

> me: deanbennylife.tumblr.com
> 
> i hope you liked it!


End file.
